Witch Hunt
by Mawarumawaru
Summary: She was no witch, nor was she guilty of the crime of witchcraft-only that of love. But, if the church wishes to call this love witchcraft, then light the flames of salvation. GakuLuka fic based on the song "Witch" by Luka.


_Hello everyone, I know it had been forever and a day since I have made any updates to this account, but I promise I will be making attempts to continue with my love of writing. This one isn't going to be very long-at least I don't think it will-and I intend to keep it as close to fact as possible. The rating on this may change as I go along depending on how in depth I plan on writing this whole thing. This is based on the song "Witch" by Megurine Luka the vocaloid, if you haven't heard it yet I urge you to check it out._

_Anywho, please enjoy and let me know what you think of it so far._

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><p><em><em>And So They Met

Witch, an unpleasant term of damnation in the eyes of the world. The branding of those whom held unknown abilities, would mark them in the sights of the church as blasphemers, heathens who sought their own demise in choosing the damned one over god-or so were the thoughts of those who bore the cross of the church on their backs. They could not see that some of these damned ones where truly sent from the god they so loved, given abilities to go beyond the sights of human kind. Given the ability to rid the evil of the earth; wipe the filth from the world of mankind.

But what happens when the evil that they are to destroy is trusted above the one sent to cleanse it? The maiden of pink had discovered that at a very young age, as she watched the ignorant people of the church burn her mother's life away for the crime of witchcraft-a charge at which her mother had no part of. Her mother was a divinely gifted being, whose gift had granted for her to expel the evil plaguing a small town, ending the life of a treacherously evil man. A man whom the people had not known the truth of; a man whom they all trusted.

Her mother became the witch that they had branded her as, and willingly took the death they offered upon herself without a word. She let them condemn her to the stake and char away the evil they manifested in their sights. If only to protect the daughter they would never get to know as hers-the daughter she bid to run and never stop running. She was to flee and become a new person free from the label of "witch".

That all had brought the now grown woman to where she was now, yet another town in which she hoped to find her own haven.

Wind brought blushing tresses to flow like silk, encircling the fair skinned maiden, a halo of those pastel locks framing her form. A pale hand extended elegant fingers, desperately trying to grasp at the hair piece that had previously held her long tendrils at bay. The strands now whipped around her in swirls of flowing rosette ribbons, blocking her view as she grasped yet again at the floating accessory which to the dismay of the girl had evaded her efforts once more. The cool air nipped at her black clothing, tossing it around her frame at she tried fruitlessly to stumble along after the drifting hairpiece.

Why did it seem that only misfortunes could be granted to the maiden and not anything of good? Why must the gods hate her so? Her life had always been on the receiving end of the fate's ill temper, letting the clouds loom over her existence. Her lip pursed in frustration as her hands failed to take hold of her belonging yet again, letting her waterfall of blush colored locks splay across her face while she focused on the ribbon bonnet her mother had made her. It was the last thing she had of her old life, and despite trying desperately to start anew, she longed to hold on to that if nothing else as a reminder of who she was.

Another gust of the offending wind brought the item to fly even higher in the air, and soft blue depths watched in desperation as the lace and ribbon object came to float elegantly down in a new location, dancing yet again away from her. She could not help the expression of astonishment that painted her features when she realized where that new destination had been.

This man's hair was nearly as long as her own tresses, if not longer, and its silken violet flows were secured high by a hair tie to let the cascade of wispy tendrils swirl in a unified motion aside from the free strands that lay in front of his ears. The locks surrounded him in the wind just as hers did if only a little more elegantly and less in disarray. The clothing he wore was also much more elegant than her own, in her opinion, and one could only assume that this man came from a higher bloodline. One of kingdoms and royalty.

The thick folds of his white apparel were pressed to a perfect shape and ribbons of royal adornment hung in splendor, even in the bustling wind this man looked like some sort of deity on earth, and the woman could not help but feel the growing warmth in her own cheeks as they were dusted with a color similar to the halo of tresses that flowed around her. It was as captivating a feeling she had ever dared to feel in her lifetime.

His eyes held her own for a moment, the soft powder blue depths reminded her of the sky, only they burned with a warmth that she could not place words to. It was like he could read her with merely his gaze and after a moment she could not help but pull her sights away from the reveling pools of reflection, choosing instead to remember the item that had brought them face to face to begin with.

Held in his strong hand-the hand that she longed to hold-was the ribbon her mother had given to her, its black ties let their silky lengths flutter in the passing breeze.

The man seemed to notice her shift in gaze and he let his own to travel down to the object in his grasp before looking back to her averted eyes. "Miss," his velvet voice chimed to her ears, "I believe this belongs to you." With an outstretched hand he offered the gestured item, letting her eye it for a moment before speaking.

For a moment the woman could not remember how to complete the task of breathing, and her intake of oxygen seemed to cease, her words failing to form though she willed them.

A moment of brief silence passed with only the wind's howls to light the sound spectrum, before the man made to speak again, his voice deep and rich with a air of royalty that the woman had never heard before. He sounded exactly like one might expect his image to indicate.

"You must be more careful, miss. Next time I might not be able to catch it for you."

A smile lit his features, and she could feel the heat in her cheeks swelter even warmer. His angled eyes creased with his smile, purple locks falling to obscure one side of his milky features as he tilted his head almost childishly to the side.

She willed herself to speak, wishing that she could return words to him as politely and a refined as he had, but she knew she could not. She was a peasant whereas he was royalty, someone high in education, and she knew she would not hold the same hum of superiority in her voice that his deepness did. It felt futile, hopeless to speak for she knew he would quickly know of what she was if he could not already see it. How could she hope for him to want to hear her speak.

Another dragging silence and the man knew that she was facing some sort of discomfort, he could see the uncertainty and panic swimming in her pale depths, and he wanted to express some form of comfort to her. Much to her surprise she found that he was stepping closer, ribbon bonnet held up between them. His gentle eyes met hers and in a silent form of speaking he bid her understanding, a soft smile telling her that he meant no harm.

Gentle fingers slid through wispy blush locks, combing the strands back into place with a practiced ease. He had had plenty of experience with his own long tresses. Shivers ran through her form as his finger tips brushed against the shell of her dainty ear, letting the electricity of the moment encase her further. The heat in hear features once again grew in stride as she felt his practiced hands reach to tie her bonnet back with a simplistically elegant bow, securing the hair piece in place with one easy movement.

Her hair was very soft, he remarked internally, almost like silk to the touch. It would flow effortlessly through his fingers as if it was a fabric of liquid. He had always harbored a love for long hair, keeping his own long to feed his fascination, but the moment he had felt hers he knew that he had stumbled upon something that would entrance him to no end. He wished idly that he could run his fingers through it once more, and never have to stop.

It took a moment to realize he was staring perhaps a bit too much, and he let his gaze slip back to her own sparkling pools, seizing the opportunity to study their glittering depths. With a breath of air, he made to speak once more, his velvet tone riding across the air in rich waves.

"There now, miss." He smiled once more, letting his sharp white teeth glint through his parted lips. "That should hold it in place, it should." The man added happily.

"Thank you..."

A meek voice sliced the silence, it was soft and sweet, and it chimed like a bell to his ears. His eyes widened at the sound of it; it was almost too angelic to be human. In that moment he knew his eyes could look nowhere else, his ears could hear nothing else but this woman. She had captivated him, as if he had been cast under a spell.

"You are very welcome, my lady."

The woman felt her heart ease at his response, and she thanked the heavens that he had not called her out on her lowly status. Her heart beat wildly like a drum, alight with her happiness in that moment.

"I am very pleased to meet you, sir. I am called Luka, Megurine Luka." her soft voice introduced, willing with all her anxious being that she might sound just as refined as he, where he would not fault her for her different living class.

"Pleasure meeting you, Lady Luka. I am honored to make your acquaintance, I am." he spoke politely, the royal air of his voice carrying to her on waves of deep richness.

The two were lost in their own world, smiles dancing happily on their lips as they looked into the depths of the other, both unaware of the scrutinizing eyes that viewed them from afar.

Eyes that held the darkness of jealousy and hatred, blackening the image of the holy being they belonged to.

'_She shall not take him. Heavenly father, I have found a demon in our midst. A witch.'_


End file.
